Bryon Widner was at a skinhead festival where hate spewed from loudspeakers; his mind heard the words but his heart wasn’t convinced. It was May 2005 when…

Three-year-old Isabella Larsen changed his life.

image/newsfornatives.com

She was excited by his tattooed face and wanted mom to take her picture with the skinhead. Julie was covered in tattoos herself and could see the man beneath. She thought Bryon was cute; he felt that green-eyed Julie was “one cool chick.”

Julie lived in Ironwood, Michigan; her job at the bank provided a decent life for her four kids. Only she wished that her ex-husband had not pulled her into the white power movement. Julie became so involved she handed out fliers on racial purity and organized fundraisers for imprisoned leaders.

The hardcore mom also let her home become a base for the Pioneer Little Europe movement; no racial or Jewish touches allowed in these neighborhoods.

“The movement had answers for everything,” Julie declared. “And the answers usually revolved around the special status of the white race and the fact that most of existing problems in society, in the economy, in the world, were created by Jews or blacks or immigrants.”

Yet the movement made Bryon and Julie feel as if they belonged to a family, something neither had ever known. Down the road they realized the movement is nothing more than a cult.

The light went on for Julie in her thirties; she began to have doubts. The restrictions on her kids had grown old—no Disney movies because Hollywood is controlled by Jews—no rap music, no Chinese or Mexican food.

Another thing she tired of was her abusive marriage. Julie wanted out of both. “I just wanted a normal life,” she sighs.

After months of long, intense phone calls Bryon knew he wanted the simple life too.

One night just before Christmas 2005, he called Julie and proposed. Bryon had been in a barroom brawl; so drunk he checked the next day to make sure she had said yes.

No matter that her friends thought she was insane; Julie packed up the kids and made the twelve-hour drive. They were married in Ironwood on Jan. 13, 2006 by a justice of the peace. Julie’s kids and a couple of Vinlanders were witnesses.

image/seattletimes.com

The kids loved Bryon and he loved being a dad; it changed him.

“It was like overnight he went from being a drunk, a skinhead and a fighter, to being this kind, nurturing father and husband,” Julie beamed. “It was amazing.”

It touched Julie so much that she began to change. When men were lined up at a skinhead festival for sex with underage girls, she thought of her daughters. Skinheads use the mantra: We must secure the existence of our people and a future for White Children. She knows it’s an outrageous excuse to have sex with young girls.

Julie dropped out. It wasn’t so easy for Babs, the enforcer. He was a founding member of the Vinlanders. Still, he was determined.

It would cost him. He was branded a traitor, became a hunted outsider. “I just felt like I was being attacked at every angle,” he moaned. “I was done.” It was too much; he suffered a panic attack in 2007 and downed a bottle of pills.

Bryon felt like a freak, and outcast in society. He couldn’t get a job; parents cringed when he picked up the kids at school. At the doctor’s office he was holding baby Tyrson when a woman spouted, “No wonder the baby is crying, he’s probably scared of your face.”

That was it. When a leader of the Vinlanders called to force an ultimatum: Your club or your family, it was easy…

“It’s my family man.”

Bryon turned in the “patch” that he helped design, a laurel wreath atop a red, white and blue shield; then burned everything connected with the Vinlanders: http://vinlanders.com/

The final step would be the hardest…

Removal of the tattoos from his face. It took many procedures and horrendous pain to accomplish his goal. When it was done, the monster was free…

Love had won.

May Your Glass Always Be Half Full

_______________________

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About Maxi

Hi … I'm Maxi, a retiree with an addiction. I have quit: raising kids, cleaning house, cooking, doing laundry—there is no end the list—everything is done on "have to." The addiction? Writing to my last breath.
blessings ~ maxi